


You're Driving Me Mad

by redvinyl



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bare Minimum Plot, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, F/M, Jon Snow - Freeform, Jon and Sansa Are Not Related, Jon can't say no to Sansa, Jon's fantasy, Margaery Tyrell (mentioned) - Freeform, Modern AU, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Robb Stark (mentioned) - Freeform, Sansa Stark - Freeform, Sansa is studying to be a therapist, Smut, Theon Greyjoy - Freeform, Theon suggests she analyse Jon for practice, Vaginal Sex, Ygritte (mentioned) - Freeform, jonsa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-04 18:16:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17309492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redvinyl/pseuds/redvinyl
Summary: When Sansa wants to practice for an upcoming therapy practical exam, Theon suggests she ask Jon.





	1. Chapter 1.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fanfic I've ever written, so let me know what you think!  
> I saw a prompt for something along these lines on Tumblr so thanks to the anon who messaged jonsa-creatives.  
> Here is the prompt:  
> "Ok, but now I need a fic where Jon goes to see a therapist (modern au) or a maester (maybe Sam? cannon verse) because of his feelings about Sansa!!"  
> So this fic follows that, except that Sansa IS the therapist, and it might be a tad dirtier than the anon intended ;).  
> Happy reading!

“Seven Hells, Theon! What’d you do that for?” Jon frowned. “I told you about my feelings in confidence, and now you want me to go and fucking tell _her_ , so she can psychoanalyse them and tell me I’m some sort of pervert?!”

Theon chuckled and took a sip of his beer. “Firstly, you should know not to trust me with anything – and second, I’m doing you a favour! How long have you been drooling over Sansa? You’re driving yourself mad, you either need to make a move or give up on it, and we both know there’s no way in hell you’re giving up on her.”

Jon’s brows furrowed. Deep down he knew Theon was right, but there was no way he was going to admit that to Theon – his ego was big enough already. Besides, it might actually give him some peace to talk about his _infatuation_ with someone in more detail, even if it was the object of his desire. He didn’t even need to tell Sansa who he was thinking about.

“Gods, I’m not actually going to do this, am I?” Jon murmured, frowning even more when Theon released a smug grin.

“Even if you didn’t want to, there’s no way you could back out now without disappointing Sansa.” Theon smirked, “Maybe she’ll even take pity and shag you!” Jon hated the way that his breath hitched at the thought, and he raised his beer to hide the blood rushing to his cheeks.

“Anyway,” Theon chugged the rest of his beer. “I told her that you’d be more comfortable doing it at your place, so she should be here any second.”

“Fucking hell, Theon!” Jon exasperatedly sighed and flipped Theon off as he tossed his empty bottle into the bin and made his way over to the door. “Have fun, mate. You can thank me later!” Theon grinned and closed the door to the apartment behind him.

Jon sat in shock for a moment before jumping up and rushing to the bathroom. He didn’t know what he was expecting to happen with Sansa, but regardless, he busied himself with fixing his hair and spraying a little of the cologne that he saved for special events.

 _Jesus, Jon. It’s not like this is a date_. He chided himself, but still, he couldn’t help the butterflies pooling in his stomach, and when the doorbell rang, he practically sprinted to open it for Sansa.

And of course she’d be dressed to the nines. Tight black pencil skirt that showed off her heavenly legs and arse, and white blouse with just the right number of buttons undone to make Jon’s thoughts run wild. The length of her legs was further emphasised by the killer black heels she wore. She looked like she’d just stepped out of one of Jon’s wet dreams.

“Jon!” She smiled, “Thank you so much for agreeing to this! I’ve been stressing about this exam for weeks now.” She tucked her red waves behind her ear and Jon gulped. “So, how’ve you been?”

“Busy. Work has really been ramping up. But it’s so good to see you again, Sans.” Somehow, he failed to mention the dryness in his mouth and the sweat on his palms, but those weren’t important right now when she was here in his apartment dressed like _that_.

“Yeah, I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages, Jon.” She paused, and Jon started to lead her to the living room. “We really need to catch up more. I miss high school when you basically lived with us. I’m sure Robb does too.” Jon smiled at the memory.

“I’m not sure he misses me living in his room, especially when he’s replaced me with Margaery.” Jon joked, and Sansa laughed prettily. Jon sank into the couch and Sansa slipped into the recliner opposite him.

“So, are you happy to do it here? Some clients find they’re most comfortable in their bedrooms.” Sansa questioned, and Jon choked. It was hard enough to keep his mind at bay with her in the living room- he might die if he saw her in his bedroom.

“Uh-here is… here is fine.” Jon stuttered, and Sansa nodded, pulling a notepad and pen out of her bag.

“So, I’m sure you know this, but whatever you say in this session is entirely confidential. I can’t tell anyone anything about it, unless you’re a danger to yourself or others. With that being said, I’m sure that won’t be the case with you.” She paused to look at him for confirmation, and Jon nodded.

Sansa continued. “So, I know it might me a little difficult to open up to your best friends’ little sister, but I promise that however bad you think your thoughts are, I’ve read about worse. Plus, nothing you say here could be more embarrassing than the time you fell asleep at the beach and Theon used the sunscreen to burn a dick into your back.” She smirked.

She was _teasing him_. Fuck. And he hadn’t even started to talk about his dreams yet. Jon felt his face redden, and Sansa released the cutest little laugh, and apologised for reminding him of the burn.

“So, Theon didn’t tell me much other than the fact that you’ve been struggling with some persistent thoughts for a while now? He says it makes things very hard for you.” Jon flushed again and tried not to roll his eyes. Of course Theon would make a fucking dick joke when telling Sansa about his fantasies. Jon didn’t know whether to thank Theon for not disclosing more about his _‘thoughts’_ to Sansa, or curse him for leaving the job to Jon.

“So, can you tell me a little bit about them? Anything that really stands out? Recurring themes? That sort of thing.” Sansa offered, and Jon let out a shaky breath at the thought of what he was about to do.

“Well, uh, they’re not only thoughts. They’re dreams too.” He confessed, eyes down-turned and face red. “It always features the same girl. And they’re…” he paused and stole a glance at Sansa, “they’re always lewd.” He raised his eyes from the carpet, slowly trailing them up along her long, smooth legs to her skirt and slightly unbuttoned white blouse – Seven Hells, Jon wished he could trace this path with his mouth. When he met her eyes again, she offered him a sweet, innocent smile that had Jon wishing his pants weren’t so restricting.

“Well, Jon, it’s not unusual for people to become sexually infatuated.” She crossed her legs and Jon gulped as he caught a flash of black lace. “If they’re overwhelming for you, perhaps it is because you’re not being properly satisfied.” Jon flushed at all the times he’d snuck off to wank when he’d caught Sansa by the pool or fresh out of the shower.

“Yeah. That could be it.” He choked out as his mind flicked through the part of his brain that stored the memories of barely dressed Sansa that he had catalogued for late nights. The part of his mind that was memorising this very conversation for later.

“How often are you having these thoughts? When did they begin?” She questioned as she tapped her lip with her pen. Shit.

“I’ve been having them for years now, but they’ve only been this intense for the past few months. They’re most common in the evenings and the mornings, but sometimes I get them at the office and I have to-” Jon balked. Sansa looked up at him from her notepad.

“Yes? Have to what?” Jon could have sworn he saw her smirk. Fuck it, Jon thought, raising his eyes to challenge hers.

“Sometimes I have to go to the bathroom and jerk off. I just get so fucking hard I can’t even concentrate, and all I can think about is my mouth on her sweet little cunt.” Jon fought the overwhelming sense of smugness that washed over him as she blushed and tried to distract herself with her note-taking. He didn’t miss the way that she swallowed and squeezed her thighs together.

“And, uh, is that all these fantasies contain? You going down on this mystery girl?” She regained control, but her thighs still rubbed together.

“No.” She watched him intently. “Normally they start with some tension, like an argument or a confrontation, and before I know it she’ll be right in front me, and the talking will have stopped, and all I can smell is her, my pants are suddenly too tight, and ever so slowly she leans in and it all becomes too much.” She was hanging onto his every word and it wasn’t doing the problem in his pants any favours.

She looked at him pointedly, urging him to continue. “When she pulls back for a breath I take the chance to kiss along her jawline and down her neck, the taste of her drives me fucking wild and the whimpers she releases when I get it _just_ right – Gods, they’re heaven.”

Sansa was clearly trying hard to pretend as though it wasn’t affecting her, and Jon’s arousal at recounting the fantasy was becoming harder to hide. He grabbed a cushion and placed it over his lap in an attempt to hide his rapidly hardening cock.

“And then, I push her backwards until her glorious thighs hit the table and she tugs at my shirt as though she wants it off right away, so of course I fucking comply, and once it’s off I’m welcomed by the fact that her blouse has been unbuttoned, and – _fuck_ – and she isn’t wearing a bra, and her tits are god-damned perfect. All perky and full with rosy nipples, and these fucking freckles – these bloody freckles are all I see when I close my eyes now – and all I can think about is how much I want to kiss them, and so I do.”

Sansa’s eyes are burning into him now, as Jon subconsciously traces the trail of his fantasy down her mouth-watering body. First her rosy lips, the same colour he imagines her nipples to be, then her neck, that she subtly arches as he mentions it, before his eyes dip down to the breathtaking curve of her tits. Seven Hells, Jon wants nothing more than to find out once and for all what was underneath that fucking blouse.

“And then what, Jon?” The way Sansa rasps his name might’ve make him cum on the spot, if he weren’t so distracted by his imagination.

“I’m kissing all of her gorgeous freckles, teasing her, getting closer and closer to each nipple before I move away, and just as she starts to whine I wrap my lips around one and suck, swirling my tongue around it, and the whine hitches in her throat and turns into a fucking perfect groan that makes my already rock hard cock jump in my trousers.” His real-life cock also jumps as Sansa fucking licks her lips while staring at him. He was going _mad_.

“And as she moans I bring my other hand up to toy with her other nipple, pinching and teasing as my tongue worships the other, and after several more glorious fucking moans I push her back onto the table and hitch up her skirts, to find her tiny scrap of underwear fucking _soaked_ all the way through, and Gods I’m a mess when I tease her about it, and she says something about how long she’s dreamt of this, and- _oh fuck_.”

Jon’s cock is driving him insane under the cushion, and so as secretively as he can he snakes a hand under the pillow to cup it and rub it through his jeans. The thought that he is doing this in front of his fucking dream girl and temporary therapist makes the blood flush to Jon’s face, but if he’s being fair with himself, she did ask him for all the details of his biggest fantasy – who’s to blame him that it turned him on?

If Sansa notices, she doesn’t say anything, but Jon almost groans when she rasps, “I can see how tense this makes you.” She stands up and fucking _saunters_ over to his chair. “Here,” she says as she walks around behind him and begins to massage his shoulders, “Does that feel better?”

“Seven Hells, Sansa.” Jon fucking moans. “You’re making this right difficult for me.” She starts to pull her hands away from him, but Jon places his hand atop hers. “Gods, don’t stop- _please_.” He all but whimpers and, thank the Old Gods and the New, she mercifully obliges.

“Go on, Jon.” She coaches, and he has to clench his free fist to prevent another moan from escaping his lips.

“And so, I tear her dripping panties off, and there she is. Fucking perfect cunt just begging for me to taste it, glistening and the smell of her – _shit_ – its so much stronger here. I can feel myself salivating at the scent of it. And just the thought that she has planned far enough ahead to wear her fancy lingerie and shave her gorgeous red-haired pussy for me, I could finish in my pants, but I can’t, especially when I know what’s on the horizon. So instead, I start to tease her again. Placing kisses to her thighs and navel and peppering them all around where I know she wants them most until she’s fucking begging for me, and only then do I reward her by _finally_ tasting what is mine.”

“Gods, Jon.” Sansa whispers, as her hands dip down to his chest. “Ygritte had it made with you.”

Jon almost chokes on his words as he whips his head around to Sansa. “What? Who said anything about Ygritte?”

“Well, I mean it makes sense, doesn’t it? To fantasise about your ex? Plus, you let slip she had red hair.” Sansa trails off. “You mean it wasn’t her? If it isn’t Ygritte, then who is the mystery red head?”

“Fucking hell Sansa – are you really that blind?” Jon wonders aloud, and as he watches her, he can see the moment the puzzle pieces fall into place. Her face flushes and Jon can feel his doing the same, but it’s not long before she’s regained her composure.

“Perhaps, if telling me about it is too difficult- would it be easier for you to show me?”


	2. Chapter 2.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pretty much just 2.75k words of smut. Enjoy ;).

Jon’s mouth goes dry. _Show her?_ Holy shit.

 

After a beat of Jon’s stunned silence, Sansa slowly pulls her hands away from his chest. “Oh Gods, Jon I’m so sorry. It wasn’t about me, was it?” She blurts, blood rushing to her cheeks as she hurries around the couch to sit beside him. “I’m so sorry,” she rambles, “I just assumed because of the red hair thing and… oh my god this is so embar-” Jon cuts her off by crashing his lips into hers.

 

Sansa lets out a stunned little squeak before immediately reciprocating his passionate kiss. Their mouths move in perfect sync, giving and taking, Sansa’s plush lips opening like the gates to heaven as she deepens the kiss. _Seven Hells_ this was already better than Jon could’ve ever dreamt. The little whimper she lets out when he shifts so that he is lowering her down onto the couch makes him groan into her mouth and he deepens the kiss even further by biting her lip and tugging on it lightly.

 

“Jon,” Sansa all but moans as they pull apart for hasty breaths, and Jon trails his kisses down along her jawline as she continues to speak. “When did-” She pauses to let out a groan as Jon finds a sweet spot by her ear and licks and sucks at it with swollen lips. “When did you start… start to- _oh Gods, Jon, yes, right there_ \- to feel like this?” She says between even more moans.

                                                          

Jon speaks between kisses as he shifts his attentions from her jaw to her neck. “Seven Hells, Sans,” He pauses to graze his teeth against her beating pulse point, “When haven’t I felt like this?” Jon swears that the flush that adorns her cheeks grows even brighter at this, and his heart swells.

 

“Do you remember your first ever school dance?” Sansa gives a quiet confused sound of affirmation, her eyes squeezed shut as Jon continues his ministrations on her neck, “I kept trying to build up enough courage to ask you, but I couldn’t. I fucking should have, because when I saw you walking down the stairs in that godforsaken little blue dress – _Gods_ – I knew I was done for, Robb be damned.” Now it was both their turns to flush red.

 

Jon continues kissing down across her chest until he is met with the cloth of Sansa’s blouse. He starts to fiddle with the top button as he looks up at her for approval, and as she nods, Jon undoes every single one, kissing every inch of new skin that is revealed to him before proceeding to undoing the next.

 

As Sansa sits up slightly to slip the blouse off, Jon pulls his own shirt over his head, and for a blissful second of heated tension, their eyes lock. Sansa’s are wide and dilated, he’s sure his don’t look much better, and only after she allows her eyes to dip to Jon’s chest and her lips to quirk appreciatively does Jon allow himself a glimpse of topless Sansa, and if he thought his trousers were tight before – _fucking hell_.

 

Her porcelain skin is contrasted by her lacy black bra, and – _fuck_ – he was right about the freckles. There’s a light smattering of them across both of her gorgeous tits, and if Jon thought the image of fantasy Sansa’s freckles were tattooed on the back of his eyelids, then these are burned into his brain.

 

Jon barely has the time to breathe out a chorus of sweet nothings before Sansa is pressing her lips to his once more and running her fingers through his curls, tugging and pulling, and Jon’s cock lurches as he thinks of her doing the same with him between her thighs instead.

 

After another urgent kiss, Jon is well and truly on the edge. Fuck all his inhibitions, Sansa wants this – _he_ wants this. “Sansa,” Jon’s voice is so rough even he barely recognises it. When she meets his eyes he rasps, “Let me taste you.” Even in the warm room Jon can see Sansa shiver at the words, her eyes hooded and dark as she nods eagerly.

 

She slips off of the couch and Jon’s brows furrow for a moment in confusion before she unzips her pencil skirt and starts to shimmy out of it, shaking her ass and tits delightfully, and Jon has to use every ounce of strength to not let out a strangled whine at the sight.

 

And Gods, what a sight it is. Sansa’s legs are smooth and long, and after Jon appreciatively trails his eyes along mile after mile of gorgeous leg, he is rewarded with Sansa’s round, pert arse. She looks like a Goddess and – _holy shit_. The flash of black lace that got Jon’s cock stirring is on full show for him now. A skimpy little thong that would no doubt make him blush if he wasn’t already painfully hard in his jeans.

 

“Fucking hell, Sansa. You’re perfect.” Jon murmurs, standing and reaching out to grab her by her wrist and pull her close to him. “You have no idea what you do to me.” He groans into her ear and hears a sharp intake of air from Sansa as she feels his stiff cock brush against her thigh.

 

“Oh, really?” She teases in the most sinful voice Jon has ever heard, and he has to close his eyes and count to ten to try and hold himself back.

 

“Mmhm,” he responds, forcing himself to step back and undo the buckle on his belt, much to the delight of Sansa who watches his every move. Once the belt is undone, he moves to the button on his pants, and then the zip, and slides the jeans off of him, leaving his slate grey boxer briefs as the only thing between Sansa’s eyes and his cock. He’s clearly tenting his briefs, and if the way Sansa licks her lips at the sight, she’s pleased by what she sees. The thought alone almost pushes Jon over the edge.

 

Once Sansa has drank her fill of his body, she pulls him back closer. The momentum of Jon rushing towards her pushes them out of Jon’s loungeroom and toward Jon’s small dining area, and Sansa smirks when she realises. Jon is about to question why, when Sansa grabs his hand and leads him backwards towards the table. She jumps up so that she sits atop it facing Jon, spreads her legs, so he can stand between them and then it dawns on him – _she’s recreating his fucking fantasy._

Jon has no clue how in such a short timeframe and with such minimal contact Sansa has pushed him to the edge of cumming so many times, but its this realisation that forces him to use every single molecule of restraint in him to not give in. Jon’s got no clue what he’s going to have to do to make it through tasting her and – _Seven Hells, fucking her –_ without finishing like a green boy.

 

Jon uses his hands to explore her body, starting with them at her waist before gently bringing them upwards to caress her tits through her bra. Jon massages them lightly, earning himself a whimper from Sansa before he starts to play with them more roughly. Sansa arches her back as Jon caresses her, and Jon moves his attentions lower, placing light kisses and calculated brushes of his hands down across her stomach to her navel.

 

He’s well and truly kneeling in front of her now, his nose on the verge of brushing against her underwear, and Jon feels an overwhelming rush of arousal and triumph run through him as he sees how slick her thighs are. He moves to kiss her through the fabric and moans when he finds it soaked all the way through. Sansa shivers at the vibration.

 

Jon places a kiss to each of her thighs before moving closer and closer to her cunt. When he reaches it, he raises a finger and gently trails it along the crease between her thigh and her panties before hooking it under the side of the fabric and pulling it across to reveal her to him.

 

Jon gulps at the sight of her. Glistening and rosy here too. His first instinct is to lick his lips, and as he does so he locks eyes with Sansa, her breath hitching at the sight of him ready to devour her. Jon’s sure he looks as hungry for her as she looks aroused, and he maintains his eye contact as he moves just half an inch closer and licks a stripe up her folds. Both of them moan at this – Sansa from the feeling and Jon from the flavour. She’s sweet and heady, a taste that’s undeniably _Sansa._  

 

Jon continues his exploration of her cunt, settling by the bundle of nerves that causes Sansa to whimper deliciously every time he flicks his tongue over it. “Gods, Sansa. You have no idea how long I’ve dreamt about doing this.” Jon moans as he devours her, getting more fervent as she laces her fingers though his curls and tugs deliciously.

 

Jon keeps licking at her, moving from teasing her clit to tonguing her entrance, until her breathing becomes more rapid and heavy, her moans more frequent and eager. Jon whispers dirty thoughts into her pussy as he continues his ministrations, and soon enough Sansa’s creamy thighs are clamping around his head as she peaks. The sensation is just as powerful for Jon, and when Sansa finally releases her grip on him he lets out a little whine at the loss.

 

It’s not a long reprieve though, because before long Sansa is tugging Jon up and over her again, passionately kissing him and moaning as she tastes herself on his tongue. “Where did you learn how to do that? Seven Hells.” She murmurs into his mouth as Jon just smirks and returns the kiss.

 

As they kiss Jon lets his hands roam to the clasp of Sansa’s bra – the last thing between the two of them – and smiles as Sansa pulls back from the kiss to admonish him for teasing. “Fuck, Jon. Hurry up and get it off already.” She’s breathless but smirking when Jon finally removes the lingerie, and she giggles prettily as Jon gawks at all of her.

 

“Holy shit.” Jon whispers as he trails kisses down to her breasts, wasting no time as he wraps his lips around one nipple and plays with the other. Sansa’s smirk is cut off as her mouth drops open and lets out another whimper. Jon swaps to the other nipple with his mouth and Sansa curses as she runs her fingers through his curls again. “ _Jon_ -” she groans out. “I need you inside me now.”

 

Jon doesn’t pause as he stands up and moves to between her legs, placing his hands on either side of her hips on the table. He lets out a little whimper as his cock brushes her warm folds and Sansa smirks, reaching down to grab him and line him up with her entrance. Jon thinks he could cum just from the light touch of her fingers around him, but as he sinks into her he realises this is so much _fucking better._

Sansa must think so too, for once Jon is fully inside her she lets out a guttural moan and a curse. She moves her arms to his back, rubbing softly as if to let him know that he can move, and so Jon pulls out slowly before slipping back in. Now it’s his turn to moan.

 

“Gods, Sansa. So fucking tight for me, aren’t you? So fucking wet, too.” He grinds out as he slides in and out of her, his lips muttering filthy things into her ear. “I’ve thought about pounding into your cunt so much. I’m going to fuck you over everything in this flat.” He says, breath hot and heavy in her hair as she moans.

 

“You feel so good,” Sansa breathes out, “ _Fuck_ \- yes Jon right there.” She whimpers as his cock hits deep inside of her. “Harder, baby.”

 

Jon doesn’t need to be told twice. He starts pumping into Sansa with renewed passion, driving himself all the way in, before slipping almost all the way out. “I love this little pussy. This is _my_ fucking pussy, isn’t it, Sansa?” He grunts, and Sansa lets out a choked whine.

 

Jon keeps up his strenuous pace, the wet sounds of Sansa’s pussy becoming more obscene, along with both of their moans. Jon snakes a hand down to toy with Sansa’s clit as Sansa begins to stumble over her words. “Yes, baby. All yours. It’s always been yours. Seven Hells, Jon. You stretch me out so good, _fuck_ , your cock is perfect, you’re so good at this baby. I’m almost there, don’t stop, Gods, never stop- _shit.”_ Her walls clench around Jon and he curses.

 

“If you keep doing that I’m going to cum, Sans.” His voice is rough and strained, but Jon doesn’t care. All he cares about is Sansa and her perfect body and her perfect _everything,_ and how it’s all that surrounds him right now. He speeds up his attentions on her clit, Gods know Jon isn’t going to last much longer and he wants nothing more than for Sansa to finish with him.

 

Sansa lets out yet another delicious moan and breathes out something that makes Jon’s heart stop beating in his chest and his mouth run dry. “This is even better than I imagined it.” She says it so quiet that Jon is scarcely sure she meant to say it, even less sure that he even heard it, but as his eyes meet Sansa’s he knows it was no accident.

 

“You’ve thought about this?” Jon growls, finding it harder and harder to not finish deep inside her. “You’ve fucked yourself to the thought of this?” He moans. He takes her lips with his, the kiss sloppy and passionate, his movements inside her starting to become less rhythmic too.

 

“I’ve played with myself while thinking about you sneaking down the corridor from Robb’s room and taking me instead of my fingers.” She rushes, speaking the words into the kiss, and if Jon thought he was close to cumming before it’s nothing compared to now.

 

“Fucking hell Sansa, could you get any hotter?” He grinds out just as Sansa peaks again around him, her mouth falling open and brows furrowing as she lets out a cry of pure ecstasy. Jon has to ball his hands into fists and recount the Seven Kingdoms to not cum deep inside her fluttering cunt.

 

Sansa’s breath is heavy when her pussy finishes squeezing him, but Jon’s is heavier as he slips out of her. He groans as he takes himself in his hand and Sansa pouts prettily. “Let me help.” She says in the most sultry voice Jon has ever heard before slipping off the table and kneeling before him, licking a stripe up his cock before taking him all in and moaning at the taste of her on him.

 

“I’m going to cum, Sans,” He says by way of warning, but Sansa just sucks at him with even more vigour, and the sight of her looking up at him through her long lashes, mouth wrapped around him sends him over the edge. He spills inside Sansa’s mouth, and he worries for a second before she swallows it all with a smile.

 

She stands with grace and gives Jon a small smile as he catches his breath. He raises a hand to caress her face. After a beat of silence, he smiles. “I love you, Sansa. I’ve loved you for years. I don’t want this to be a onetime thing. I want all of you- if you’ll have me that is.” She grins back at him.

 

“I’d love nothing more.” The pink in her cheeks returning as Jon lifts her into his arms bridal style and carries her down the hall to his bedroom and she giggles.

 

As he walks Sansa curses, but she’s smiling. “Gods. I just realised- we’re never going to hear the end of this from Theon, are we?”

 

“Well, he always fancied himself a great matchmaker, didn’t he? I’ll deal with a lifetime of Theon’s bragging if it means I get you.” Jon smiles, and with that Sansa leans in and kisses him again, gently.

 

“I love you.” She sighs, and Jon beams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh so that's my first ever fic. Thank you for all the reads, kudos and lovely comments - the response to this was so much better than I ever could have anticipated and really inspired me to continue writing on here.
> 
> I have a couple more ideas in the works for future Jonsa fics, but I work best off of prompts, so if anyone has anything they'd like me to write let me know in the comments below and I will try my best to make them happen. I'm happy to do smut, fluff, angst... really whatever your little heart desires.
> 
> Thanks again for the great welcome :)


End file.
